


Highway of Love verse: Gremlins!

by Jassy



Series: Highway of Love [2]
Category: Supernatural
Genre: Genderswap, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-04-09
Updated: 2018-04-09
Packaged: 2019-04-20 11:56:03
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,280
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14260437
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Jassy/pseuds/Jassy
Summary: Highway of Love future fic.





	Highway of Love verse: Gremlins!

**Author's Note:**

> So, there was always supposed to be a sequel to Highway of Love. That's been giving me issues for years, but over the weekend, this little bunny popped up out of nowhere. No promises on anything else popping up, I'm not really active in fandom anymore, but hopefully y'all enjoy a peak into the boys' future lives.

Sam was certainly grateful that the apocalypse had been canceled. Of course he was. And he was pleased that his brother had made a new friend in the form of the angel that Gabriel had recruited to their side in their efforts to convince the majority of Heaven that they really didn’t need to work too hard to get it un-canceled. Castiel was looking to be a good friend to them both, Gabriel definitely seemed to enjoy having a good relationship with at least one of his numerous siblings, and for once, Dean’s over protectiveness was being lavished on someone other than him. At least mostly, because Dean was physically incapable of _not_ being overprotective of Sam. He was just distracted by guiding Castiel’s efforts to navigate humanity and all of its bewildering vagaries. 

The problem was the _staring_. Castiel staring at Dean when his brother wasn’t looking. Dean staring at Castiel when the angel was focused on something else. And occasionally, the both of them staring at each, clearly oblivious to their feelings as they talked about something, eyes never wavering from the other’s. The tension was enough to make Sam want to lock them in a room with nothing but a bed and a gallon of lube.

After sitting for almost an hour, trying and failing to concentrate on his search for a decent hunt, distracted by the rising levels of sexual tension that was in no danger of being acted upon any time soon, Sam finally broke. He snapped his laptop shut with a louder than needed slap and stood. Two pairs of eyes glanced his way before drifting, as though magnetized, back to each other. “I’m going out,” he announced to the uncaring pair.

“Bring back beer,” Dean said vaguely.

Rolling his eyes, Sam snagged his jacket as he strode towards the door. The moment it closed behind him, he lifted his face to the night sky and thought as hard as he could ‘ _Gabe, if I don’t get some serious distraction NOW I am going to do something unfortunate to our brothers’_

Gabriel was often involved, unwillingly, with guiding the celestial Host in their collective bid for free will since Michael and Raphael were sulking, and didn’t wanna play with anyone. It was a fine line to walk, since he had to curb the more disastrous ideas while also not simply ending up in the place where he was telling them what to do. So it was even odds as to whether he was in a spot where he could get away. Fortunately, it seemed the odds were on Sam’s side. Gabriel appeared with the faint rustle of feathers that betrayed his own flustered state. He looked grumpy, running a hand through his hair and casting a glare at the sky. “Honestly, I should just leave them all to Balthazar’s whims. It would serve them right.”

“Right? And I swear, if those two stare at each other any harder, they’re going to combust. And not in a fun way.” Sam shamelessly wrapped around his shorter lover and leaned on him, comfortable in the knowledge that Gabe’s phenomenal cosmic powers could easily hold his weight. “The eye-fucking was reaching new levels of intense. But strangely, I am certain that they _don’t_ intend to actually do anything about it.”

Gabe rolled his eyes. “I thought Cas was smarter than this.”

“Apparently not. Now, distract me. I don’t want to go back in there until I’m so blissed out I wouldn’t notice a car bomb going off right outside the window.”

Gabe laughed as he snapped his fingers. Sam just registered that they were in Gabriel’s home, then turned his attention to nibbling on his lover’s ear. His hands started wandering, then to his surprise, were captured and held away from his lover’s body. Blinking, Sam obligingly shifted back. Gabriel had never declined sex before, but Sam wasn’t about to push if Gabe wasn’t into it. Considering the mess his lover was so often dealing with, it shouldn’t be too much of a stretch to find that he was maybe not in the mood. “Uh, sorry? We can do something else….”

Snorting, Gabriel shook his head. “Get a grip, Sam-a-lam. Of course we’re going to fuck. But I’m thinking we deserve to be a little creative.”

Sam considered that statement. Then he considered the bathroom décor. Then narrowed his eyes. “ _How_ creative?”

“Pfft, forget that. Medusa might be a freak with the snakes, but she ain’t nothing on you, Sugar Tits. No, I’m thinking something a bit different, but a bit the same. You have fun when I wear the redhead, right?”

“Well sure. Any of them.” Sam left the ‘duh’ unspoken.

“Ever considered trying it for yourself?”

Tilting his head, Sam considered that statement. Gabe obviously didn’t mean trying sex with Gabe while Gabe wore a female form. They did that whenever the mood struck his lover, and as long as Sam knew for sure it was him, it was all good. So if it wasn’t Gabe that was going to be female, then… “You want me to be a woman?” he squeaked.

 “Not permanently,” Gabe assured him. “But you _did_ ask for a distraction.”

Sam had never considered the idea. He’d always been quite content with his body, with being male, and had never really thought about what it would be like from the other side. He considered it now, head cocked to the side as Gabe waited patiently for him to process. “Are you…bored?” he asked, hesitantly, considering his lover’s past penchant for creating numerous playmates of every description, male or female, all inventively attractive. Not to mention the bathroom décor, and the hints of even more inventive sex that Gabe had had with all manner of people and creatures. The thought isn’t a happy one.

Gabe seemed genuinely startled. “What? No! Sam.” He pulled Sam close again. “No, Sam,” he swore. “I am in no way, shape or form bored with our sex life.”

Sam relaxed. “Okay then,” he said. He would have agreed anyway, but knowing that this was just a fun whim and not Gabriel’s way of saying he was growing bored meant that he would enjoy it more, without having to worry about trying to be more creative.

Gabe blew out a breath. “Sorry I asked,” he said, sounding sheepish. “Just thought you might have fun trying it.” He looked up, lecherous smile teasing at the corners of his mouth. “Now, c’mon, I happen to know there are a wide variety of syrups waiting, all warm and goo-y, in the bedroom.” He stepped back to tow Sam towards the bedroom, but was brought to a halt by Sam’s refusal to move and raised eyebrows. “What? It’s not _all_ chocolate flavored. There’s cherry and strawberry too.”

“That’s great, Gabe, but I said okay.” They blinked at each other for a few seconds. With a huff of impatience, Sam thought as hard as he could _may I please have a vagina for a while?_

“Seriously?”

“Seriously. Although I warn you, if you give me tits like something out of those weird anime pornos, the deal is off.” Sam tried to sound stern. “Boobs that big are just disturbing.”

“Actually, I was thinking of just flipping a switch in your DNA,” Gabe explained. “It’s easier.”

“I don’t get it.”

“It was sort of even odds as to whether you got the boy chromosome or the girl. Boy genes, boom!” Gabe gestured at Sam’s 6 foot plus frame. “Girl chromosome, you would most likely have looked like this!” He snapped his fingers and the world went dizzy for a few seconds.

Sam blinked the dizziness away. Gabe was suddenly a lot taller than he usually was. Or no, wait. Sam looked down at himself, the shirt that was now far, far too big, the jeans falling off his hips and puddle around his feet. Boobs, not bizarrely enlarged as he’d half-jokingly feared, but still unexpected, rising and falling with each breath. “Huh. So this is what I would have looked like if I’d been born a girl?”

“Most likely. There are plenty of recessive genes for me to work with, so you’ve basically got the pick of skin tone, hair and eye color, the works. These are the dominant female genes,” Gabriel explained. He sounded pleased. “You’re not ugly, that’s for damned sure.”

Sam kicked off his now too big shoes and started stripping off his clothes as he walked towards the bedroom. For the moment, curiosity won out over horny, and his goal was the mirror that dominated the wall facing the bed. He basically walked out of jeans as his shirts came off, then stood to examine himself in the mirror. He was still tall, but tall-for-a-woman tall, so maybe about 5’10”. He was still well muscled, but again, not like he was normally. His body resembled an acrobat’s or gymnast’s frame. His light brown hair tumbled to his shoulders in soft waves, hips rounder than he was used to, with a tiny upturned nose that had a smattering of freckles over it. He turned and nodded at the ass he saw. “Hot damn, I woulda made a hot woman,” he informed his lover, noticing the husky contralto that his voice now was.

“Yup,” Gabe agreed, lips popping on the p sound. There was a visible bulge in his jeans, and a noticeable golden tint to his eyes that spoke volumes to Sam about his lover’s current mood.

Sam grinned, arousal a strange, coiling ache between his legs. He glanced back at the bed. “So, you gonna help me test drive my new ride or what?” He cupped his breasts, just in case his meaning was somehow not very clear.

Fox-quick grin lighting his face, Gabe tackled him to the bed.

*

It was some indeterminate amount of time later when Sam felt his lover stirring with a disgruntled huff. “Hmm?” was the best he could muster. There was a vague memory of demanding to end up too blissed out to notice a car bomb, and Gabriel had _delivered_. In spades. There were most definite advantages to the female form, and Gabe had made him extremely, happily aware of each and every one of them.

“Your brother seriously needs to get laid,” Gabe growled. “I swear to dad, Imma sit Cas down with some educational videos or something.”

Sam groaned. Gabe didn’t bend time for them very often. It took too much energy, apparently, and he needed every bit of it to try to corral his wayward siblings. Which meant that when Sam was gone too long for his brother’s tastes, Gabriel started getting pissy, Castiel-boosted demands for Sam’s return in his head. “Don’t wanna,” he whined.

Gabe sighed. “Apparently he found a hunt.”

“Seriously? Worst cock-block ever.” He rolled over and draped himself over Gabriel. “Snap me up some clothes that fit?” he requested.

“You don’t want….?”

Sam lifted his head from Gabriel’s shoulder and grinned. “Not done playing with this baby. And it’s gonna serve Dean right. Bet it’s just a simple salt and burn, and he’s just being a dick.”

Gabriel grinned and did him one better. With a snap of his fingers, they were relocated in the motel room. The blanket draped over their bodies kept things from being _too_ TMI, but just barely.

“What the fuck?!” Dean yelped.

Sam glanced over his shoulder past the tangle of hair. Dean was staring at them, mouth open and fury building in his eyes. Castiel was seated at the small table, as buttoned down as ever, but with slightly widened eyes indicating a near unprecedented level of surprise. “Gabe said you found a hunt?” he drawled. “It better be a good one—we were having fun.”

“Sam, are you aware that you are now female?’ Castiel asked, as though somehow Sam could have failed to notice that.

“Of course.” He sat up, stretching, barely keeping the blanket in place to hide his (fairly perfect, in his own opinion) tits from his brother and his brother’s angel. “Not like I could have missed it.”

“Wait, what? Cas, that’s Sam?!” Dean sputtered. “So that pint-sized little prick isn’t cheating?”

Castiel frowned slightly at Dean. “Gabriel remains faithful to Sam. He has simply altered Sam’s genetic structure slightly.”

“Slightly!” Dean stared, wild-eyed.

Sam turned mirth filled eyes to his lover. “Clothes?”

“Must you?” Gabriel whined, hands moving unsubtly beneath the blankets over Sam’s hips.

“Unless you want me flashing your brother, yes.”

Gabriel blinked. He actually was possessive enough that he wasn’t willing to go that far, and snapped a silk robe into existence. Sam wiggled it on under the blanket then stood. The covering was fairly flimsy and clung to his body in a way that Dean apparently found disturbing, if the way Dean couldn’t seem to look straight at him was any indication.

Wobbling slightly (he hadn’t had to do much walking lately, and angelic stamina was no joke) he started towards the bathroom. “So what’s the job?” he asked, putting toothpaste to brush to start getting ready for the day.

“Never mind that. Turn him back, you shit.” Dean glared at where Gabriel lounged on the bed, clearly still naked, hands linked behind his head.

“No,” Sam told him around the toothbrush.

“No?” Dean glared at the wall next to Sam’s head.

Sam spit into the sink and scowled. “No. I’m not done playing. Just because you decided it was time for me to be done doesn’t make that the case. Now, what’s the friggin job already?”

Dean’s mouth worked for a bit. Then, apparently realizing that Sam wasn’t going to bend on this, he gave in. “Probably gremlins,” he said grudgingly. Under the withering look Sam gave him, he scowled. “I mean, more than one. All the signs point to a whole damned nest of the little fuckers. It’s like a plague of ‘em moved in and are having the absolute time of their freakin’ lives.”

Sighing, Sam turned to rinse his mouth. One or two gremlins were a relative cakewalk. If Dean was right, and it was a whole nest, it was definitely a job that needed all hands on deck. In singles or small numbers, they were cowards, bent on causing destruction. In large numbers, they started with destruction and could move on to killing. They’d seen the aftermath of what ten of the little beasts could do to a human, and it had looked like a school of piranhas had gotten the guy. “Fine. I’m gonna shower and then we can head out. You can give me the details on the way.”

When he got out of the shower, there was a stack of clothing sitting on the closed toilet. Apparently Gabriel was still in the mood to tweak Dean’s nose. The jeans were low slung hip huggers, the t-shirt was tight and bared his stomach. If Dean got a good look at the lacy scraps that Gabriel considered underwear, he’d blow a gasket. He padded out toweling his hair dry to find his brother alone in the room. Not a surprise-Gabe didn’t often accompany them on hunts unless they were dealing with demons. But…”Where’s Castiel?”

“Checking in upstairs. Apparently there’s some disagreement going on that’s gonna take both of them to take care of.” Dean shrugged, trying to hide his discontent.

Nodding, Sam found a new pair of boots that would fit his smaller, more slender feet and sat to  put them on over a pair of soft new socks. He found a note in the right boots. ‘ _Sorry, Candy-butt, took little bro with. I wanna see if I can talk some sense into him.’_ Sam hid a small grin. The note vanished and he finished getting dressed. “So where are we going?” He shouldered his duffle and snagged his laptop.

As Dean drove them to the small town that was apparently being plagued, Sam did some research. Orange Meadow was, indeed, suffering from something. The place boasted all of six thousand residents, and the local paper was filled with stories going back about three weeks of ‘vandals’ cutting brake lines, destroying fences and gardens and dog houses. Local animals were spooked, and a lot of families were reporting missing dogs and cats. No one could put garbage out without finding the bags shredded and the contents flung everywhere. Worse, the papers reported multiple instances happening all over town, every night, and the small police section listed multiple calls happening at the same time. “I’m sold,” Sam agreed. “Definitely sounds like a pack of gremlins. It’s hard to say how big, though.”

“We’ll find out when we get there.”

Orange Meadow was not big enough to boast so much as a bed and breakfast, so they were forced to rent a room in the next town over, about a fifteen minute drive. That wasn’t too bad. They had definitely had to deal with worse drives. They got in too late to get started looking around, as they definitely didn’t want to show up at night in a town with everyone on high alert watching out for ‘vandals’. Bright and early the next morning, they headed into town. As they cruised through the small town, Sam could see minor destruction everywhere they looked. As folks removed obvious targets, the gremlins were moving on to the less obvious. There were now broken windows in homes, trees with branches wrenched and scattered like a tornado had been through. As they passed a small park, Sam could see that the playground equipment had been damaged, even the large tire swing shredded like a velociraptor had been at it. Sam winced at that. The claw marks indicated that at least a couple of the gremlins were of a fair size.

Dean met his gaze, for once not shying away in the face of Sam’s current femaleness. Larger gremlins definitely indicated full grown ones, which could reach about three feet tall and a good fifty pounds. And more than one full grown gremlin likely meant a breeding pair. There was definitely a nest, and there was no telling how big it had gotten if there was a breeding pair in the mix.

There was a small local diner that was open, although there were few patrons inside. They took seats at the counter and Sam tried a smile at the tired woman working. “Good morning. Could we get a couple cups of coffee, please?”

“Sure thing, honey.” Two steaming mugs were set down in front of them, along with a couple of slightly greasy menus. Sam perused it quickly, unsurprised to see little in the way of health food. Dean, naturally, ordered his eggs and bacon and hash browns. Sam settled on scrambled eggs and whole wheat toast. While they waited for the food, the waitress was working on cleaning and filling salt and pepper shakers, occasionally casting curious, slightly suspicious, eyes at the pair of them.

“We’re on a road trip,” Sam told her. “We stopped over in Glen Peaks, and decided to explore the area.”

“Not a great time to be exploring,” he was told.

“Yeah, it looks like we just missed a tornado or something,” Dean commented. “There was no storm over by our hotel, though.”

A couple seats down, a grumpy looking old man snorted. “No tornado,” he said sourly. “Buncha kids is what it’s gotta be. Damned fools keep messing things up. Every damned night they’re out there, messing things up, damaging other people’s property. Scared my dog off a few nights ago, ain’t been able to find him sense.”

“Holy cow,” Sam said, widening his eyes. “I had no idea it was so dangerous. I thought small towns were supposed to be safe!” Coming from his normal 6 foot plus self, it would have seemed an obvious ploy. Now, it earned him a pat on the hand from the waitress.

“Oh, it’s not dangerous,” she assured them. “Just an almighty nuisance! When they get caught, there’s gonna be some tanned hides and angry parents having to pay for a lot of damages, but they haven’t hurt anyone.”

“There’s a lot of damage,” Sam said doubtfully.

“True, and it’s been getting worse over the last few weeks, but no one has gotten hurt. It’s probably just some fool kids making stupid videos for the internet and getting carried away. The worst part is the way they keep getting worse over time. The more folks try to batten down the hatches, the more creative the little shits are getting.” The waitress put a hand over her mouth. “Oops, pardon my language.”

“Don’t worry about it,” Dean winked. “From the sounds of it, you folks have a reason to swear.”

Chuckling a bit, the waitress moved over to the window to collect their plates. They dug in and listened as the waitress and the old man continued discussing the situation. The old man seemed to think that the Cortland boys were the ringleaders, since everyone knew that the Cortlands hated the Parkers, and wasn’t it the Parkers who’d been hit first? The waitress dismissed the idea on the grounds that the Cortlands had been hit too, their entire chicken coop destroyed and the birds scattered, and Cortland boys wouldn’t risk the hiding their father would give them for damaging their own property like that. Apparently they’d lost a couple of really good layers, and the rest, while rounded up, hadn’t laid a single egg since it happened.

Sam and Dean exchanged looks. Small towns were sometimes great to hunt in. They barely had to say anything to get people gossiping, and you never knew what kind of gems could fall in your lap with town gossip. Such as a starting point.

They paid and left when they’d finished eating, wishing the folks inside good luck with their vandal problem. Sam pulled up a local phone directory on his phone to find the address for the Parkers. As it turned out, the Parkers lived on a farm at the far edge of the town limits, isolated at the end of a long gravel road. At the far end of their property was several square miles of state forest. “Perfect breeding ground, I bet,” Dean commented.

“Probably.” He looked back over the police reports for the last few weeks. “Look, the Parkers have been hit a few times. And a couple nights ago, something cut the gas line of their tractor.”

“Little bastards,” Dean grumbled. One spark could have ignited the fumes and killed somebody if they hadn’t noticed the smell in time.

They spent the day driving around town, trying to be as discreet as possible, although considering the mood of the town and their all too noticeable car,that was easier said than done. They matched the reports with locations, and found a definite pattern that led to and from the Parker farm. Each night, the destruction started either with the Parker place or with a house on that edge of town. Every night, the damage ranged further and further through the town, until only the northern most edge of town hadn’t been touched. Yet. But as the destruction continued, and people wised up and removed the obvious targets, the gremlins were going to get bolder and bolder in their need to destroy things. Very soon now, they were undoubtedly going to start going into buildings for their fun. The nest would need to be found and taken out before that happened.

By mutual agreement, they left the small town about lunchtime. Back at the motel, they went through a pizza and got their gear ready. They had plenty of ammo, with real buckshot rather than salt rounds, and machetes. Dean made sure their kerosene was full, since they’d need to burn the remains once they were all dead. Then it was a matter of waiting and resting up for the long night ahead.

Sam lay on his back, staring at the stained ceiling. “It’s a little weird without Castiel here,” he commented idly. Dean grunted. Sam looked over at him. Dean was frowning, eyes determinedly shut. “Oh come on, don’t play that. I know you miss him.”

“Shut up, Sam.”

Sam sat up and swung his legs over the side, leaning towards his brother with his arms braced on his thighs. “Seriously, Dean. This is me. I know you. You like him.”

“Sure I like him. So what?”

“So why don’t you tell him that?”

Dean opened his eyes to glare at him. “Maybe because **I’m** not a chick and neither is he? I know that might be difficult for you to grasp, especially right now, but dudes don’t do that.”

Sam rolled his eyes. “It doesn’t make you less of a man to admit that you like the guy, Dean. I mean, come on. You won’t sprout a vagina if you just tell the guy you like him. He’s not very practiced at humans yet, he probably doesn’t pick up on the signals you’re broadcasting.”

“Signals, what signals? There are no signals, man!”

Sam speared him with a look, halting his brother’s incipient freak out. “No bullshit, Dean. You care about the guy. And I know the guy thing isn’t an issue for you, so what gives?”

Dean sighed explosively. “If he were a guy, it wouldn’t be an issue,” he allowed, sounding like it hurt to speak every word. “But he’s not a guy. He’s an angel. And not like your angel, because seriously, Gabriel is so perverted he makes me look like a nun. But a fresh from heaven, pure angel. And he _doesn’t_ pick up on any signals I might be giving off, because he’s not wired that way. It’s not gonna happen, Sam, so just. Leave it.”

“So you’re just going to leave the guy floundering around, not knowing how to…”

“Leave it!” Dean half sat up, glaring so fiercely that Sam held up his hands, indicating surrender. Clearly, any progress between the two were going to have to come from Castiel. Which sucked.

“Okay okay, shit. Whatever you want, man. Leave both of you pining, what do I care?” he grumbled, throwing himself back on the bed in a huff.

“Clearly you don’t, or you wouldn’t be off knocking stiletto heeled boots with the archangel of porn,” Dean snarked back.

“He wears the stilettos, I don’t have the balance for them.” Usually any suggestion of what might be actual real details of his sex life shut his brother up. Not this time.

“So what gives, anyway? I never pegged you as being…uh, uncomfortable as a dude.”

Sam glanced over at his brother in the other bed. “I’m not. I like my body, I’m comfortable as a male. But why would I pass up a chance to find out what other equipment has to offer?”

“Why wouldn’t you? It can’t really be that different.” The hesitant way Dean trailed off suggested that his brother really hadn’t thought it through.

“Oh, but it really really is. I mean, not to get gross, but how many times can you go in one night? Like, three on a really awesome night? Four if things are truly spectacular. But you’re gonna be feeling it for a while after, right.” Dean hummed agreement. Sam allowed the smirk to enter his voice, unmistakable. “Dude, I _lost count_. Like. I’d be crippled if I went half as many times in twice the length of time.”

Dean made a strangled noise and Sam took a pillow to the face.

Eventually they managed to doze off into napping. When it was near dark, they got up and got ready to go out in easy silence. Armed with shotguns and machetes, each with a few backup blades tucked here and there, they made their way out into the night. When they hit Orange Meadow, they cruised along the outskirts, taking back roads until they were near the Parker farm. They left the impala parked under some trees, tucked out of sight, and made the rest of the way on foot.

The entire night was creepily silent. There were no animals creeping about in the darkness, no birds settling in or owls just taking flight. Even insect activity seemed scarce. They settled into the hiding spot, tucked in some overgrown bushes, and traded the binoculars back and forth for the next few hours, keeping watch. Finally, a couple hours before sunrise, Sam felt his brother nudge him. He accepted the binoculars back and looked where Dean was pointing. The Parkers had a single security light that cast a dull yellow glow over the ground in front of their barn. Sam could just make out shadows moving swiftly, small figures dancing and jumping and scampering in the faint light, heading for the woods.

Like a well-oiled machine, he and his brother moved to follow, soundless in the night. They kept just far enough back to not attract the attention of the vicious little things, but close enough to track. Although tracking them wouldn’t be too hard, not with the lack of breeze. They left behind a stink, something like a mix of garbage, sewage, rot and a weird musty smell that Sam generally associated with lizards. Even a hint of breeze would have dissipated it fairly quickly, and they might have had to get closer to the retreating pack than was wise. The gremlin left no footprints, broke no twigs and bent no branches. Without the smell, there was no way to track their passage.

Once the forest closed in around them, the smell became even more vital. They couldn’t risk making sound, and without well groom grass to muffle their steps, they had to move even slower. After a good twenty torturous minutes of creeping along, sniffing the air like dogs, they came to a spot where the ground dropped off suddenly, a steep hill going down a good twenty feet.  The smell was even stronger, suggesting they were very close to the murderous critters. Resigned, Sam shared a quick look with his brother, features barely visible in the starlight, but knew that they both wore similar grimly determined looks. Settling their weapons, they began to make their cautious, almost tortuously slow, way down.

At the bottom of the hill, the smell somehow lessened. They both froze, looking around. There was no way that could have happened. Unless…. Squinting, Sam studied the way they’d come. Beside him, Dean was doing the same. Dean suddenly grabbed his arm and pointed. Still squinting, Sam studied the patch of hillside that his brother was pointing to. At last he spotted what had caught Dean’s attention. There was a patch of blackness against the gray of the sapling and brush lined hillside. A spot where nothing was growing. The nest, more than likely. Fantastic.

Scowling, Sam followed on his brother’s heels. As they crept up to the black patch of nothing, the smell grew stronger again, indicating they were once again getting closer to the pack. They flanked the hole in the ground, the opening no more than 3 feet wide and 4 feet tall. Sam pulled a couple of emergency glow sticks. As soon as Dean had the shotgun set and ready, Sam snapped them in the middle, gave a quick, practiced shake, and tossed them in. From inside, as the green light began to glow brighter, there was a frantic sounding rushing noise, claws scrabbling against rock. Seconds later, the first gremlin charged out at them, maw gaping, shark-like teeth flashing in the green light. The shotgun blast was deafening. The gremlin turned into so much goo. The death of the one set the rest to screeching, and then the fight was on.

They ducked inside the cave, and Sam noted in one, relieved glance, that it was just the one cave. No tunnels leading further into the earth. They bracketed the doorway, firing the shotguns until they were each out of shells, then switched smoothly to machetes. There had to be at least twenty of the little bastards, all shrieking and scrambling with claws. A few dug into the rock and tried scrabbling along the cave ceiling to drop on their heads. Sam let his brother deal with the high ones while he dealt with the ones that came along the ground. Several were bleeding from where buckshot had pierced scaled hide, releasing more of that odd lizard-like must into the air. One of the smaller ones managed to dodge Sam’s machete and latch onto his boot. Claws managed to pierce the leather around his ankle, but the deadly teeth were hung up on the steal toe. Without thought, Sam whirled and kicked, smashing its head into pulp against the cave wall.

He turned back at his brother’s cursing to find one had gotten behind his brother and was trying to climb his back. Without thought, Sam drew a second, shorter blade and stabbed it through the head. He shook the blade, flinging the corpse towards the back of the cave.

The gremlins kept coming. There were more than twenty. There had to be. Sam kept swinging, sometimes kicking, but always swinging, cutting off limbs, heads, whatever he could get. His brother took a page from Sam’s book and skull stomped a couple, swearing as brain and blood coated his boots.

The gremlins kept coming, but fewer, finally. But also bigger. The first wave had been the smaller ones, no bigger than cats, then raccoons. Finally some that were as big as toddlers, and more dangerous, stronger. Sam swung and his blade bit deep into a shoulder, but it didn’t deter the gremlin coming at him, and claws bit into his thigh. Swearing, Sam drove the point of his knife deep into one of the giant owl-like eyes glaring hate up at him.

There were only four of the toddler sized ones to deal with. Once they were dead, both he and Dean stood there, chests heaving, machetes ready. He could feel it. They weren’t done. He edged closer to Dean and bent, scooping up a shotgun. With his brother standing guard, he reloaded as quickly as he could, taking advantage of the way they were being studied. “Older they get, the bigger they get,” Dean said softly. “And smarter. And we haven’t seen any that were quite breeding sized yet.”

“No kidding,” Sam muttered back. He passed the shotgun over then stooped for the second. There was a whisper of sound as the only warning. From _outside_ the cave, something rushed him. He landed flat on his face, something heavy and reeking and clawing for his throat on his back. He heard the shotgun, deafening in the cave, go off over his head. The weight on his back didn’t vanish, and it didn’t stop moving. But Dean started swearing again, and Sam figured he was dealing with one of his own.

For the first time, Sam wished he’d had Gabriel turn him back to normal. He really wouldn’t mind having his usual bulk to his advantage. He shoved with arm and leg, rolling onto his back in the hopes that it would squash the damned thing, but its grip never loosened. It changed, though, no longer going for his throat but hanging on. Sam drove an elbow into its side, but other than a foul hiss of air, gained nothing from it.

He could feel its legs scrabbling for purchase, though, and groped for a knife. He’d lost his machete when he’d been tackled, but then, he wasn’t keen to try to drive _that_ particular blade into something he was wearing like a second skin. He found another shorter blade and twisted his arm to sink the razor sharp, wickedly pointed blade into the thing’s side. It shrieked, nearly as deafening as the shotgun blast. When it still didn’t let go, Sam started to twist, grinding the blade into the body beneath his. Finally, the grip on him loosened and he was able to roll free, taking the blade with him.

When he gained his feet, he had a couple seconds to take in the scene. The gremlin that had been on his back was about 3 feet tall. Its greenish black hide almost seemed to suck light into it, and its mouth stretched obscenely wide in its head. As the mouth opened to emit another shriek, it almost looked like the skill split in two, so wide did it gape. Beyond it, Dean was grappling with another, even larger gremlin. It had tackled his brother front on, and though Dean had clearly caught it with that shotgun blast, it was still strong enough to be struggling, snapping its jaws at his brother’s face. Sam had no doubt that if those jaws connected, his brother would lose whatever they closed around—including his face. Both of his brother’s hands were wrapped around its neck, keeping it just out of reach, simply enduring the slicing of those wickedly long, sharp claws.

The one that had jumped on his back was getting up, muscles coiling beneath its hide, preparing to spring. The gaping wound in its side slowed it some, so Sam was able to dodge and avoid being in the same position as his brother. His dodge and roll took him closer to his brother, and the still loaded shotgun that had fallen by his feet. He grabbed it, turned, and fired full in the face of the gremlin bearing down on him. The head splattered like over-ripe melon.

Fast as fast could be, he reloaded and popped back up at his brother’s side. He wedged the end of the shotgun up against the thing’s abdomen and pulled the trigger. It was blown in half. Unbelievably, the top half continued to struggle, jaws snapping. Sam shared a single, incredulous look with his brother, then shoved the end of the gun between those gaping teeth. The last blast disintegrated the head, and Dean dropped the remains of the corpse on the ground.

Sam’s ears were ringing. Dean’s probably were too. They were both covered in gore, and Sam knew they were both bleeding in several places. Still, since neither sported _serious_ injuries, they had to finish. In unhappy silence, they gathered as much of the bodies and body parts as they could manage into a pile in the middle of the cave. Sam poured the kerosene and let his brother light the match. They retreated quickly as the foul smoke billowed out of the cave opening.

Sun was just peaking over the horizon as they made their way to the car. Neither was moving terribly fast, but it was still a quicker return trip, as they no longer had need of absolute silence anymore. By the time they made it back to the motel, the gore was beginning to dry and stiffen their clothes. Sam was wary when they parked next to their door, eyes casting about for any onlookers, but it was still too early for people to be stirring. They closed the motel room door gratefully behind them, and Sam slumped against it. “That sucked,” he observed, eyeing the shredded toe of his boot. He could see even the steel had been scored by teeth.

Dean was eyeing similar marks on the end of the shotgun. “How the fuck did they get so big?” he muttered. “That big, they shoulda been making messes big enough to be noticed long before now.”

“Maybe they did, but somewhere else. Who knows? Flip you for the shower?” he suggested.

Dean scowled at him. “No way. I’m not the one with a magic boyfriend that has an Olympic pool sized bathtub.”

“He’s not here, in case you hadn’t noticed,” Sam pointed out.

Dean smirked at him then raised his face slightly. “Gabriel, get your feathered ass down here and take care of Sam!”

Sam rolled his eyes, not expecting much, but a second later, Gabriel was in the room with Castiel at his side. The angels eyed them for a moment. Gabriel’s gaze darkened, taking in the gore and injuries liberally covering Sam. Castiel was a bit more subtle, but still eyed his brother in obvious concern.

“Hi,” Sam said weakly, giving him a sheepish fingerwave. “How was your night?”

“Better than yours,” Gabriel observed. “Gremlins, then?”

“Gremlins,” Sam confirmed. “Uh, several. Many. And two were really, really big.”

Shaking his head, Gabe turned to his brother. “Take care of Deanie-baby, little brother. I’m going to get Sam cleaned up.”

“I will,” Castiel agreed solemnly.

Gabe snapped his fingers and Sam found himself standing in his lover’s ridiculous bathroom, strawberry scented steam filling his nose. With a sigh, Sam straightened and reached up to start unbuttoning his shirt. Gabe pushed his hands away, taking over the task. Sam let his hands fall and allowed his lover to undress him, the clothes vanishing before they hit the floor. When he was naked, Gabriel eyed him from head to toe, taking in bruises, cuts, and punctures. His lips tightened at the claw marks on his neck, perilously close to his jugular. “Bit more than you bargained on,” he observed tightly.

“A bit. The pack was bigger than we’ve ever run into before. And…the breeding pair weren’t inside the nest with the others. They waited until we’d wiped out the rest then jumped us from behind,” Sam admitted.

Gabriel easily lifted him, then carried him to the tub to gently lower him into the steaming water. Sam let himself float, groaning as the heat eased sore muscles. Gabe joined him seconds later, floating on his back, head to toe, and twining their fingers together. Sam closed his eyes and let the water relax him. After a while, he felt Gabe’s fingers tighten around his own.  He looked up as Gabriel twisted to tread water beside him. Too serious eyes swept over his body, then he was leaning down to press his lips to each wound, healing each one.

Sam’s heart began to beat faster, that recently familiar liquid ache growing in his groin. His nipples tightened, and even without the water, he knew he’d be wet. As Gabe kissed away the wounds on his ankle, Sam pulled his feet back and swung them down in the water. Gabe met his eyes, and Sam very deliberately wound arms and legs around his lover. “We were fine,” he stated. “I promised to call if we ever weren’t.”

“Sometimes your judgement is for shit, Winchester.”

“Maybe. But you know how overprotective Dean is. If he’d thought we weren’t, or if he thought **I** wasn’t, he would have called you.” He tilted his head, a small smile hovering around his lips. “Although I will concede that going on a job like this isn’t something I wanna do again. Could have used the extra muscle.”

Snorting, Gabriel shook his head and pulled Sam closer. As he nibbled Sam’s neck, he murmured, “Any luck with your brother?”

“Mmm, what? Oh, no. He, ah, doesn’t wanna corrupt the innocent angel with his filthy human lust.” Sam bent his head for some nibbling of his own, strawberry and chocolate filling his mouth.

“And Cas thinks it’s because his vessel is male.”

“Gabe?”

“What, Sammich?”

“Can we _not_ talk about our brothers right now?”

Gabe lifted his head, eyes wide an innocent. “Why, whatever else would we occupy our time with?”

For an answer, Sam slid a hand down between them to grasp his lover’s cock. With a shift and a shimmy, he guided it into his aching pussy. Gabriel decided that was a much better idea.

  

 


End file.
